Page 99 of Lilacs and Leather

“Mr. Kneally will be hearing from us soon. We’ll see you in court.”

The air is tense and silent as she dismisses Seth, and I hear her heels on the sidewalk again, but my eyes are still locked on my shoes. Her scent of cloves and cinnamon drapes over me, warming my core as I draw it deep into my lungs. A gentle finger on my chin lifts my gaze until I’m looking into Alexandra’s hazel eyes. Her brow is pulled into a slight dip of concern, but she’s otherwise unreadable.

“Are you done for today, lovely?” she asks, voice the softest I’ve ever heard.

“We still have to close up, ma’am,” I squeak, words barely making it out past the lump in my throat.

Alexandra nods once. “I’m going to leave Rhett and my car here with you, but I need to go into the office and make some calls. I’d like to talk to you at the pack house when you’re done,” she says.

“You can go now. Gran’ll understand. I’ve got this,” Gabby says, squeezing my hand again and nudging my shoulder.

I look at my best friend and swallow. Her dark eyes are so kind, and I feel guilt crashing down on me. I feel my lower lip tremble and I take a deep breath, nodding silently.

“Good girl. Rhett, my love. Here,” Lex purrs, first to me then raising her voice to call over her shoulder.

“Keep walking, ya bastard,” Rhett shouts, not moving.

“Yeah, don’t you have a tighter shirt to go find?” Lucas adds with a sardonic laugh.

Alexandra lowers her hand from my face, but her scent stays warm and spicy, acting as a balm to my fragile disposition. Gabby gives my hand one last squeeze before starting to clean up the sidewalk display. I don’t dare look to see where Seth goes, but I can tell by the way Lucas relaxes when he’s finally out of sight. He steps up to hold the door for Gabby, fingers brushing my arm as he passes me. I close my eyes and shiver at the touch, only to have the wind knocked out of me as a warm, whiskey scented body engulfs me in a tight embrace.

“Take my car back home, my love. Lucas can take me back to the office. Mateo’ll have to come pick me up after his meeting,” Alexandra instructs, and I hear her nails clicking away on the screen of her phone.

Rhett nods, and I let myself relax into his arms, the adrenaline finally wearing off. All of the fear, the anger, the worry hits me at once, and I feel almost detached from my body as I let Rhett hold me. The world feels like it’s at the other end of a tunnel, all sound dampened like I’m underwater. I sway a little on the spot as my legs lose their strength. I scent Gabby as she presses in for a quick hug, but I don’t understand the words she whispers in my ear. I let Rhett lead me away, my legs moving automatically. By the time I’m in the front seat and Rhett is backing away, I let panic drag me down, giving in to the exhaustion in my heart.

Thirty-Eight

Rhett

I grip the wheel of Lex’s car hard enough that my knuckles turn white.Lydia’s scent of burnt-sugar fear fills the cabin until I’m practically choking on it. But I force myself to focus on getting us home safely. She doesn’t speak or even open her eyes as the tears stream silently down her face. This quiet despair is almost worse than her panic, and not being able to fix it tears me apart.

I pull into the garage a few minutes later, shutting off the car with a press of the ignition button. I turn in my seat, looking at Lydia’s pale, tear-stained face. She looks like she could be asleep, but she’s shaking too much for that. I almost wish she would, just to escape this mess for a little while. My anger rises again in the back of my throat, burning like acid as it tries to consume me. I promised to protect her, and she still had to endure that ordeal. The shame of that failure presses on my chest until I can hardly breathe.

“What do you need, love?” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.

“Nest,” she breathes.

My heart clenches at how small and broken her voice sounds, and how truly helpless I am right now. I need to keep her safe, but her apartment is too exposed. If Seth found her at her job, who knows what other information he has?

“I can try. Wait for me in the car, okay? I’ll be right back.” I release a sigh, mind working as I try to find the solution.

Lydia nods and goes quiet. I climb out of the car, closing the door gently, and then race into the house. I load my arms with every pillow, blanket, cushion, and piece of clothing I can find, carrying them out into the garage and up the stairs along the back wall up into the gym. I’d rather her be somewhere more comfortable, but the heat and anger under my skin refuses to go away. I need to get this energy out, but I don’t want to let Lydia out of my sight. I only hope that this will be enough.

I lead Lydia up the stairs to the gym, and her shoulders tense at the strong scent of alpha on everything. Mateo and I use this space the most, and our scents are thick, even to my nose. Lydia finds the linen pile right away and starts pulling pieces into the alcove of a dormer. I help her as much as she’ll let me, but I leave her alone once she starts arranging and fussing. She wraps a fluffy green blanket—a twin to the one I’d gifted her a few months ago—around her shoulders and head before settling into the hollow she’s made for herself.

I wait until she’s still and quiet before letting out a long sigh. I work my tie free and force my shaking fingers to the buttons of my shirt. The rage that has been mostly contained since Lucas first texted that Lydia was in trouble roars back to life, the ember flaring to an inferno that refuses to be quelled. When I’m free of my button-down, I change into a pair of gym shorts that Lydia hasn’t used in her nest and begin the process of wrapping my knuckles.

Some people do yoga, others run, but I have yet to find an exercise that settles me quite the same way sparring does. Playing with Lucas comes close, but it’s not the same sort of release. The catharsis of pushing my body to its limit, the burn of my muscles helps soothe the savage temper that lives in my chest. Once I’ve finished the methodical process of taping my knuckles, I move over to the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling and start stretching my shoulders and arms.

I start slow, getting my body used to the movement before I really start to hammer the bag with my fists and feet. I let the fury consume me, let the heat in my heart rise to the surface, purging it with sweat and movement. It’s easy to imagine my bag is Seth’s body, and I position my strikes to where they would do the most damage, but not enough to end him. I would beat him bloody, leave him a broken shell of a human being, and only when he’s begging for it would I walk away to let him bleed out slowly. The torment that he’s inflicted on my pack isn’t worthy of a quick death.

I don’t know how long I’m lost in the maelstrom of rage, but I jump when a small hand touches my sweat-soaked back. I spin around, hands up to defend, sweat flying in an arch. I look down and see Lydia looking up at me, arms raised to block her face, which is screwed up tight as she braces herself.

“Lydia, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—don’t—I’m sorry,” I ramble, dropping my hands and splaying them out in a gesture of peace.

Lydia relaxes, flushing bright red. She chews her lip and sniffles slightly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she mumbles.

I lurch forward to embrace her but stop as I realize how absolutely soaked in sweat I am. I settle on taking her hands and kissing the knuckles softly. My grip is a little clumsy with the wraps, but her mouth still twitches into a little smile.